


The Other Side of Summer

by mahbbys



Series: Long Hot Summer (Lawn Dean verse) [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Crush, Bisexual Dean, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Blue Collar Dean, Bottom Dean, Crush at First Sight, Crushes, Eventual Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Flustered Dean, Hot Weather, Internal Monologue, Light Masochism, Longing, M/M, Masturbation, Older Man/Younger Man, Resolved Sexual Tension, Secret Crush, Sequel, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Tension, Sexy Castiel, Slow Build, Slow Build Castiel/Dean Winchester, Slow Burn, Summer Love, Summer Romance, Unf, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Wet Dean, Young Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-14
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-02-21 04:38:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 15,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2455007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mahbbys/pseuds/mahbbys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When 19 year old Dean Winchester takes on a new job as part of his work with Singer's Landscaping, he has no idea he's going to wind up with such a crush on the tall, dark, and sexy client, Castiel Novak. Dean finds it's not just the record heat wave that's going to get him hot and bothered this summer.</p><p> </p><p>Dean's perspective of the events in <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1498138">The Summer of Cas' Discontent (Or: How Cas Got a Hot Lawn Boy & Lost His Mind)</a>, but can be read as a stand alone fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is having trouble concentrating on the job.

 

 

Dean felt like a goddamn schoolgirl.

True, he had a tendency to zone out when Bobby was, yet again, going over the list of rules they had to abide by to work at Singer’s Landscaping. But Dean was pretty sure that having a crush on, and detailed hardcore sexual fantasies about, one of your clients would definitely be included under the “Things Not to Do” column. He felt like Bobby would have very strong opinions on that matter.

Dean sighed. He had just taken the job that Bobby had given him. That’s all he’d done; it was perfectly innocent. How was he supposed to know that the client was going to be tall and tan and handsome as hell? With gorgeous blue eyes and a mouth that…just…Oh, God, that mouth. That mouth should be outright banned from public display, quite frankly. It did more for Dean’s libido than any brown-paper-wrapped porn mag ever had. Those lips were obscene.

Not to mention the guy was built like a brick wall if you could make a brick wall out of sex appeal. It was stupid to have that much sexy in one package.

Dean was going to be lucky to survive the summer. He was probably going to wind up stepping on a rake or something because he’d be too busy watching Castiel Novak’s arm flex when he turned a page to watch where his own feet were instead.

Dean didn’t know what the guy actually did for a living. But he had played through every professor, librarian, and demanding boss fantasy his mind could supply. And Cas had starred, full frontal, in every…

Oh shit. Had he seen Dean looking at him? Dean smiled and waved, hoping to play it off as just a friendly glance. It didn’t feel so friendly when Dean’s groin pulled at the sexy grin Cas gave him. Then Dean caught sight of Cas’ jaw twitch and holy crap, why was that so hot?

It was hot enough without Dean’s temperature rising every time Cas turned those intense blue eyes on him or flexed a muscle inadvertently. If his crush on Castiel Novak didn’t make him keel over this summer – likely from lack of blood supply to his brain – then the heat just might.

Dean shucked his tshirt before he bent to start up the lawnmower. He tucked the shirt into his back pocket and hoped the task at hand would keep him from stealing any more glances at the other man. He didn’t really think it would, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this first chapter! (I know it's short, but it's going to be like the first one - shorter chapters giving way to longer ones as the plot thickens.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's fantasy life is causing some problems.

Somehow, the stars had aligned and Dean had the house to himself. No little brother, no dad - just silence and privacy. He immediately locked himself in his room, out of fear of all of that changing very quickly. Most likely mid-stroke, knowing his luck.

Dean kicked off his socks and shoes then undid the button of his jeans and laid down on the bed. He was already semi-hard, reacting like some twisted Pavlov's dog to having alone time. He considered booting up the desktop computer in the corner, but it would be faster to just use his imagination rather than the anciently slow machine.

Dean closed his eyes and let his mind play out a scene as he lightly palmed himself through his jeans. He was determined not to rush this while he actually had the time to go a little slower.

The fantasy began with a hot blonde. She was plump, with wide hips and a sweet grin. Soon enough, she was joined by an athletic brunette. Her new friend had a strong build, with smaller breasts. And bright, blue eyes.

Damn it.

Dean's brain instantly replaced her with Cas Novak. Which was fine - the guy sure as hell did it for Dean - but it'd be nice to jerk it _once_ this month without the main star of the show being someone who was essentially an employer.

Dean's dick ignored his concern, though, and twitched as Fantasy-Mr. Novak began kissing his blonde secretary's neck as she was bent over a desk. Her bra-bound cleavage pushed against the wood of the desk as Cas bit down into her shoulder, and ran his hands along her bare ass.

Dean replaced the blonde with himself with even less reservation than he'd replaced the brunette. He bucked his hips up as he imagined himself doubled over, Cas Novak's hand holding his wrists behind his back. Cas' other hand sliding against the ring of muscle of Dean's ass.

Dean slid his jeans and boxers off and kicked them into a heap in the floor.

_'Do you like it when I bend you over, Dean? Take you hard and rough?' the darker-haired man growled in his ear._

_'Yes,' Dean breathed. He felt a finger slide into him harder and he let out a moan._

So much for taking it slow - Dean's fist already gripped his cock tighter and with more urgency. He brushed his thumb over the tip and shuddered.

_'Yes, what?' came a dark, deep voice beside his ear._

_'Yes, Mr. Novak, sir.' Dean moaned as a second finger entered him and there was a breathy chuckle against his shoulder._

_'That's better...' Dean's hands were released and he grabbed the edge of the desk as Cas' cock began pushing into him. He was going slow suddenly and Dean wanted more. 'Do you want to be fucked, Dean?'_

_'Please. Please, sir...' Dean begged, glancing behind him._

_'Prove it then.'_

_It took Dean only a split second to understand and he raised himself up on his palms. Then he pushed back, letting out a hard cry, and began fucking himself with Cas' cock. He wiggled his ass a little to get the last bit of its full length and Cas groaned low. 'Keep moving, Dean. Fuck me til you come.'_

_There were hands at his hips, but only to guide. Dean had to do all the work if he wanted the reward. The desk slammed against the floor with the effort. One of Dean's hands wrapped around his dick as he plunged himself back and forth, Cas' cock slamming against his prostate with every thrust of Dean's hips._

Dean's other hand snaked down past his balls and began teasing his ass. He didn't have any lube so he had to make do with just running his fingers along the muscle, but it was enough for now. He palmed at his balls as his fingers skimmed his ass. His other hand moved up and down in a rush. It twisted whenever he ran it past the head of his cock and it was slick with precome.

_'Come for me, Dean. Be good and come for me.' Nails scratched down his back._

Dean let out a strangled cry as the force of his intense orgasm thundered through him. He came hot and warm against his hand, cascading down his fingers in wet spurts. His vision blurred and all sound whited out before his legs grew heavy and his body shuddered.

Dean panted up at the ceiling, wide-eyed. Eventually he swallowed and then inspected the mess he'd made. His head fell back to the mattress. "Fuck," he whispered, still almost breathless.

His eyes moved over to the calendar on the wall, where Castiel Novak's name was written on the next day's square. Dean was supposed to trim the hedges and mow the lawn.

Dean looked back up the ceiling and grimaced. "I am so fucked," he bemoaned out loud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love you guys, as always! Comments and kudos make my day. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is having trouble focusing on the job.

Dean eyed the house as he pulled the Singer’s Landscaping truck into the drive. He wondered again what Cas Novak did for a living. It seemed like he was always home. Dean sighed and looked over the lawn. Maybe he could start with the front yard first. Maybe that way he’d avoid having to look at the face he kept getting off to, for a little while anyway.

The heat was ridiculous. By the time Dean had finished the considerably sizable front lawn – more grass than was on the entire property Dean lived on – he was dripping sweat even after discarding his tshirt. Sammy would have his head over disrobing without sunscreen, but it was too fucking hot to care about more freckles. Dean continued on in the side yard, but had to stop for a break. His opened his mouth to let out an exhausted sigh and wiped his brow with a forearm. Then he looked towards the sun as he licked his lips and wished it would back the fuck off already. It was barely summer, and already it was meltingly hot.

Then Dean saw Cas from his peripheral vision and experienced a completely different kind of meltingly hot. The older man was sitting on the porch, closed off by a screen, looking perfect and unattainable. He was stretched out on the recliner, a pile of pages in his lap, wearing thin cream slacks and a pale blue polo. He tugged at the collar of the shirt with a hand that also held a pen. His full, pink lips twitched as he read the stack of papers. He was fucking gorgeous and it made Dean angry and sad and frustrated all at the same time.

Dean caught a telltale movement of Cas’ eyes and he quickly turned around before Cas could catch him staring. He pretended to look over something on the mower, bent at the waist, before eventually starting it back up again.

He glanced back over and Cas was sitting with his head up and eyes closed, obviously thinking. The guy had to be smart. No way you could afford a house in this part of the neighborhood, complete with pool, and stay at home all day without being smart. Maybe he was a lawyer…one of those consulting types that didn’t actually work cases. Dean tried to busy himself with that line of thinking, adding in Sammy’s ambitions to attend Stanford to the train of thought. Anything to get his mind off of sex and the man that was reclining mere yards away.

It worked for a while, but then the heat began getting to him again. His brain, needing something to hone in on besides how stupidly warm his body was, went back to Cas. _Mr. Novak_ , Dean’s brain corrected. The man was a client. Then Dean’s brain supplied the words, _Mr. Novak, sir,_ and he was back at square one, his mouth dry at the sight of the forearms and biceps that were showing beneath the sleeves of that damnable blue polo. Dean looked away again, knowing he needed to focus on the yard.

He caught movement from the side of his eye and saw Cas – _Mr. Novak_ – standing up and turning towards the house. He’d left the stack of paper on the recliner, but he turned to pick up his drink glass. Blue eyes caught Dean’s for a split second, before the dark haired man quickly turned away and walked inside. Dean took a deep breath and hoped that maybe now he could concentrate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone remember why Cas was headed inside? ;) 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean tries to get ready for work, but finds himself distracted.

Dean had the shower going as cold as the faucet would allow without it cutting off the water completely. It wasn’t anywhere near cold enough. The tiny window in the equally tiny bathroom wouldn’t budge enough to let in a breeze, and since the Winchester house had no central air at the moment, the heat of the day penetrated the room. The natural coolness of the porcelain tub and sink helped, but not enough.

 

The water wasn’t cold enough to rid Dean of his morning erection, either. It bobbed and tried to distract him from getting clean as he soaped up his chest. He’d been having a particularly good dream before his alarm had blasted him out of bed. The shock had wiped any real memory of it away, but evidently his penis remembered enough to still be interested.

 

Dean ignored it, knowing he would be running late if he gave in to his desire. Instead, he mentally went over his task list for the day. He had to help Bobby install some trees over at a new client’s house that morning, and he was supposed to stop over at the Talbot house and see why their water feature was getting murky.

 

Dean stood staring at the wall, and blinked as the water ran down his back. He was almost positive there was a job in between those. He frowned and began absent-mindedly scrubbing again. What else was he supposed to do today?

 

He thought of his regular clients, trying to remember who needed what. His mind tripped over the image of Cas Novak. His dick noticed, perking up again from where it had begun growing soft at the thought of work. Dean pursed his lips, and stuck his head under the cold flow of the water, closing his eyes tight.

 

Dean made it through another couple of clients before blue eyes popped into his head again. He made a noise out loud, and flicked his head so that he could reopen his eyes without water running into them. He tried staring at the wall some more, hoping it would distract him the feeling of his own hands running over his body.

 

It did no good. Neither did shoving his hips under the cold stream of water – the shock of it just aroused him further, like a subdued version of ice skimmed over a nipple. Dean licked and then bit his lips. If he skipped conditioner and didn’t shave, he decided he could probably get off and still be at work on time.

 

Dean’s hands dipped lower and he soaped around his balls, thrusting forward. He’d probably just be distracted all day if he didn’t do something about it now. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry, as he let his knuckles graze along the underside of his shaft.

 

It would be dangerous to be distracted while working. Dean ignored the voice in his head telling him he wouldn’t be working with any tools today, and that planting trees wasn’t particularly hazardous. Instead, he listened to the rough-hewn rumble of a voice of a certain client in his head. It was saying much nicer things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I aten't dead." Granny Weatherwax from the Discworld novels.
> 
> I'm really sorry for the lack of updates. Suffice it to say - Such life. Very anxiety. Wow.
> 
> I had a lot of stuff going on and then got hit with a bout of anxiety (and the accompanying depression). It hasn't been too bad really, but worse than I've had since discovering the show, basically, so it knocked me for a loop. Not an excuse, but just to let you guys know why I haven't even bother to respond to anything. It also chased my muse down and pretty much salted and burned her.
> 
> Anyway, I'm going to try to have time to upload the next chapter tomorrow, but will definitely have it by the end of the weekend. I love you guys and thank you so much for your patience. It really does mean a lot that you guys keep subscribing and reading and commenting. <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean gets a little sneaky, and has an impromptu chat with Cas Novak that doesn't help his crush.

Once Dean finished with the mower, he’d be done with everything that needed doing at the Novak house, except for trimming the hedges by the back porch. He eyed them over his shoulder with trepidation. They grew alongside the house and were only a few feet from where Cas Novak was sitting working.

 

Dean bit his bottom lip, and hesitated before dropping to his knees to remove the spark plug from the mower. Once he’d done so, he pulled a wire brush from his pocket and cleaned the undercarriage. After he’d replaced the spark plug, he stood back up and stretched. He used the movement to justify another glance at his client.

 

Cas Novak was sitting, as always, stretched out on his lounger, looking like Sunday lunch. Dean hadn’t yet figured out how the man’s clothes always looked immaculately pressed and clean, while his hair always looked like he’d just crawled out of bed. He also hadn’t figured out how forearms could be so sexually arousing. Dean turned back to the mower with a huff.

 

A thought struck him as he looked at the machine and he could feel his face flush pink with the sneakiness of the idea. He sucked on his bottom lip this time, debating. He risked another glance over his shoulder. Cas Novak was still hard at work, ignoring Dean as always.

 

Dean glanced at the lawn. With the heat as bad as it was, and the likelihood it would only get worse, the idea wasn’t entirely a bad one. If you cut grass too short in weather like this it would easily brown and dry. He got paid to take care of lawns, right?

 

Dean shook his head. He would push the mower into the shed and be done with it. He would leave it alone. Except, of course, his body proceeded to do the opposite of that. Before he could talk himself out of it, he quickly dropped down into a squat again with a sigh. He moved the lever on the wheels and placed them into the correct notches. Bobby’s stern face flashed in his mind but a few clicks later, and the deed was done.

 

If changing the cutting height of the blades meant visiting the Novak house a little more often than some of his other jobs, well, that wasn’t his fault. He was just doing what was best for the grass. He nodded once, happy with his justification, and pushed the mower into the musty shade of the storage building.

 

His contentment was short-lived however, when he remembered he still had to trim the hedges. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered, as he grabbed his loppers. He took a deep breath and strode over towards the porch. His steps became less and less confident the closer he got to the dark-haired man on the porch.

 

Maybe Dean shouldn’t trim the bushes right then. The guy was obviously busy doing…whatever it was he was doing. Dean wondered again what profession would best suit Cas Novak. Unfortunately, that brought office scenarios into Dean’s mind which were a little close to some of the fantasies he’d been playing out in his mind recently. He was pretty sure he’d fucked Cas Novak over the space of an entire three-story office building in his imagination since they’d met.

 

Dean held tight to the loppers, letting the blunt edge dig into his hands and distract him. He cleared his throat and suddenly deep blue eyes were looking at him, causing him to lose all sense of the English language. He gulped as he stared, and tried to get his brain firing again. The office scenarios he’d just been picturing had put the words “Mr.Novak” into a very different light, and he tripped over what to call the man.

 

Dean’s brain rifled through the options quickly and when his cock actually twitched as he tried to form the word “Sir,” Dean’s mouth was suddenly blurting out “Hey you,” in a gruff way to make up for it. Dean saw the frown line flash on Cas Novak’s face and he rushed ahead, words falling to his mouth seemingly without input from his brain.

 

“…you uh…you want me to come back later to do the hedges? I mean, it’s not any trouble and you’re obviously busy. I don’t want to disturb you while you’re working or anything. You know what, you’re obviously in the middle of something, I’ll just do these later, I mean they’re not really that messy anyway. Not really.”

 

Dean let out a nervous laugh and then smirked with one half of his face as he rubbed one palm along his hip. ‘Smooth, Dean. Real smooth.’ He sighed and tried to ignore a sudden wave of nausea rolling through him.

 

“What?” Cas blinked a few times and then looked at the bushes. “Oh. Oh, no, it’s fine. I was just about to take a break.” He looked back at Dean and Dean’s hands got sweatier.

 

“Oh, yeah? Ok, cool,” Dean said too brightly. Then he nodded, too enthusiastically, as he walked up to the hedges. He opened the loppers, ready to start his task, when he realized that Cas wasn’t making any signs of getting up from the lounger.

 

Dean glanced over from the corner of his eyes as he began to cut the small branches. His shoulders sagged as he determined that Cas Novak’s break was apparently going to be taken in the same place as he’d been working – less than ten feet from Dean. He moved his eyes back to the hedges and glared at them, lopping at leaves with a little more force than necessary.

 

What felt like several minutes stretched out in relative silence. There was the ambient noise of the neighborhood, the clipping of the loppers, and the soft fall of leaves hitting grass. There was a distinct absence of sound coming from either man, and it was leaving too much room for Dean’s thoughts.

 

Dean glanced at Cas again. When he did, he would swear he saw blue eyes dart in the opposite direction. He frowned and wondered if Cas was watching his handiwork, wanting to make sure he did it right. Dean kind of doubted it, since he was usually thoroughly ignored whenever he was tending to the Novak yard. Maybe the reason Cas’ clothes always appeared so neat was because the guy was an uptight douche.

 

Dean tamped down the desire to purposefully trim a hole into the hedge and instead decided to test Cas in a different way. If he turned out to be a douche, it meant Dean could more easily overcome this stupid infatuation he had going. He had just adjusted the man’s mower blades in order to see him more often, for pete’s sake. He needed any help he could get.

 

Dean plastered on a charming smile, and turned just slightly to look more fully at Cas. “Man. This heat, huh?” Dean cocked his head slightly. “They say it’ll only get worse, too.” It was the kind of smile and small talk he usually reserved for Mrs. LaCroix and other friendly elderly women, and he figured it was just the thing to rub an uptight douche the wrong way.

 

Cas frowned over his iced drink for just a moment, as if shocked that Dean was daring to speak to him. It faded quickly, though. Cas nodded. “Yes, I’ve heard it’s supposed to be the worst on record.” Suddenly Cas wore a ridiculously radiant, if gummy, smile and his head tilted. “I’m glad I have someone taking care of the plants. I’m afraid I’d have a very brown and very dead yard, if it wasn’t for you.”

 

Well shit. So not a douche, then. Dean’s false smile faltered, but was quickly replaced with a real one in reaction to Cas’ grin. “Glad I, uh…could help,” Dean muttered. Cas seemed uncomfortable and looked away. It was the only reason Dean realized he was staring at the poor guy. He quickly looked back to the loppers in his hands.

 

Dean rubbed his lips together as he debated where to make his next cut. The silence seemed even louder than ever and before he even knew what he was doing, Dean was trying to fill it. Feeling like he’d been caught staring was making him nervous. He didn’t even know what he was saying, but was pretty sure he was talking some shit about the landscaping business.

 

Then suddenly he was talking about his younger brother and how Sammy had started working for Singer’s Landscaping this summer and… What the hell was he even droning on about?

 

 _Jesus, Winchester, why are you still talking?_ a voice in his head asked, as he was still running at the mouth. _He doesn’t want to hear about your brother and what – are you actually talking about aphids right now? Is that actually a thing you’re doing?_

 

Dean swallowed and ducked his head into his chest, staring hard at the branches of the hedge in front of him. “Anyway…” He let out a short cough. “It’s nice getting to work outside, though. I like being outside. I guess you do, too. I mean, you work out here a lot. Or at least you seem to.”

 

Dean furtively looked over at Cas again, but couldn’t read the expression he saw. So of course he kept talking, as that was obviously the best plan of action. “Plus, I get to meet a lot of people. I like that. Never do the exact same thing two days in a row, even if it’s similar. I like the people I work for and work with and… Uh… I love plants.”

 

Dean inwardly cringed. _I love plants? That’s the coolest, most badass thing you’ve ever said, Winchester. It’s a wonder he’s not whipping his dick out right now._

 

Dean rolled his eyes and pursed his lips. Then he cut a branch too short with a quick, angry snip of the blades. He hoped Cas wouldn’t notice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case you missed the notes on yesterday's chapter... I'm ok, just had a lot of stuff going on and then got hit with a bout of anxiety/depression. (Not a super bad bout, comparatively, but worse than I've had in quite a long while so I didn't realize it was hitting me at first and didn't start combating it in time.) Anyway, just wanted to make sure you guys knew what was up. Hope you enjoyed this chapter and the last one, and I will hopefully get back into the swing of things soon.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean spends some time with his brother and makes a confession.

Sam kicked his feet up onto the coffee table and put his hands behind his head. “I won the bet, Dean. Fair and square.” He leveled a stern look at his older brother.

Dean pursed his lips and swatted at Sam’s boots. “Off,” he chastised.

Sam made a face, but placed his feet back to the floor. “I won,” he repeated.

“Sammy, it’s not like I didn’t even try, ok? But it’s a lot harder than you’d think to figure out a guy’s…” Dean glanced around, even though he knew John wasn’t home. “Figure out a guy’s sexuality. It’s not like hitting on girls.”

Somehow, somewhere, Dean had recently decided it was best to be upfront with his brother about his bisexuality. Once he’d finally admitted it to himself, of course. Unfortunately, that meant his little brother - who regularly called him on his shit - was fully capable of calling him on _all_ of his shit. And capable of making dumb bets to get Dean to deal with said shit.

Sam put on a deep voice, which Dean knew instantly was supposed to be an imitation of him. “I can ask a guy out! I ain’t afraid.” Sam lifted his brows and looked at Dean expectantly.

Dean glared at his brother. “I can, and I’m not. I just haven’t had a chance to…”

“We agreed you had two weeks.” Sam smirked then and asked, “I thought you were a man of your word?”

Dean glared harder and his nostrils flared. “ _Fine_ ,” he said, through gritted teeth. Dean took a deep breath and then let it out again with a sag of his shoulders. “What d’ya want for dinner?” he asked as he dropped down onto the couch as well.

“Oh, it’s gonna be a three-courser. With vegetables. And I want _all organic_.” Sam leaned onto his brother’s shoulder and grinned.

Dean hugged himself and whined as he dropped the back of his head to the back of the couch. “What god did I piss off to get a little brother like you?”

Sam put his chin on Dean’s shoulder and stuck out his lips in thought. “With as much shit as you do? Probably all of them,” he replied earnestly.

Dean sighed and pushed his brother back across the couch. He stared blankly at the grey screen of the powered-down tv. He could tell Sam was looking at him, so he glanced over and looked him in the eye. “What?” he demanded.

Sam’s eyebrows did that _thing_ , signaling to Dean he was about to be forced to discuss “something serious.” Dean braced himself and frowned, squaring his shoulders against the couch cushion.

“I kinda wish I hadn’t won.”

Dean frowned harder. “Huh?”

Sam shrugged and shook his head. “Forget it,” he said breathily, as he turned to face forward. He mimicked his brother’s empty stare at the tv.

Dean blinked at him a few times. “Sammy...”

“I told you; call me Sam.”

Dean’s face dropped into a flat line at that, but he continued his thought. “ _Sam._ Pretend I’m stupid for a minute and explain to me what the hell you’re even talking about. Cause I got no idea.”

Sam sighed and glanced to Dean. “I never admitted this…” he warned.

Dean smirked. “Ok,” he agreed.

“You’re pretty cool,” Sam said, shrugging again. “Y’know… For an overgrown and unhealthy, vaguely delinquent Neanderthal with appalling taste in music.”

Dean smirked and lifted a brow. “You really know how to sweet talk a girl.”

“Also vaguely sexist,” Sam added, with a glare. “Anyway, I’m just saying it’d be cool if you met somebody you liked.” Sam played with the loose cotton threads hanging from the hole in the knee of his jeans.

Dean had gotten really bad at opening his mouth and letting words fall out, lately. He probably should see a doctor about it. Because before he knew what was happening, his mouth was forming the words, “Actually, there is a guy I kind of have a thing for.”

“Dude, seriously?”

Dean shrugged, pretending not to be horrified that he’d just admitted that out loud. It had been one thing when it had all just been a sexual fantasy. It had been another thing when he’d rambled his way through a conversation with Cas that had resulted in his attraction becoming a full-fledged crush. The guy had actually seemed pretty awesome. To admit any of that to Sammy, though – that was a yet another thing. A new and scary one.

“Yeah…I mean, it’s not like…” Dean laughed nervously and ran his hand through his hair. “It’s never gonna happen. Like ever. But… he’s cool.” Dean smirked as Cas came into his mind’s eye. “And he’s sexy as hell.”

Sam grimaced. “I don’t need details. I heard enough details about Rhonda Hurley to last me for a lifetime.” The grimace was followed by a shudder.

Dean grinned at the name. “Dude.” His flicked his eyebrows up at his brother. “You didn’t hear _half_ the details about Rhonda Hurley.” Dean whistled.

“Point please, before I remember why I usually don’t talk to you.” Sam shut his eyes tight. “Who’s the guy?”

Dean felt stupid and nervous and he looked back at the blank television. “He’s, uh…” Dean cleared his throat. “He’s actually a client for Singer’s.”

Sam’s head swiveled and his eyes grew wide. “Seriously?”

Dean shrugged, lifting his palms upward. “It’s never gonna happen, like I said. I mean, even if he wasn’t a client. The guy is… he seems really smart, and he’s got money and just…” Dean shrugged again, this time with only one shoulder. “Anyway, it’s just a dumb crush.”

“Is it Novak?”

Dean’s eyes grew wide and he felt sick. “What are you talking about?” he croaked.

“You always get weird whenever you go over there. Like you used to when you had that thing for Robin. Only worse.”

“Aren’t you fifteen?”

Sam frowned hard. “So?”

“So stop being so observant. You’re s’posed to be worrying about zits and girls and shit. Not pestering me about _my_ friggin’ love life.” Dean glared at the carpet.

“I just think it’d be nice if you had somebody,” Sam said quietly.

Dean actually almost felt touched. That was, he did until his brother added, “You’d be home way less then, and I wouldn’t have to put up with your shit as much.”

Dean pounced and proceeded to grind his knuckles across the top of Sam’s head in a noogie. Sam shrieked and dug his long fingers into Dean’s armpit and thigh. After a few moments more of tussling they landed in the floor with a thump.

“Ow! Your bony, stupid butt landed on my hand, Dean.”

“Most action you’ll be seeing anytime soon.”

“Ugh, god. You’re _so gross_.” Sam shoved himself upwards and then lightly kicked at Dean’s feet.

“Your face is gross,” Dean said on a laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love these two dorks. Sigh. Anyway, I hope you guys liked this chapter! (And thank you for all your awesome comments, you guys made me feel so much better about being so late with updates. I'm doing okay right now, I think, and I appreciate all the support. I'll reply soon. )


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean heads to the store to make good on his bet with Sam.

Dean was feeling pretty grumpy as he drove around the grocery store parking lot. He was having to visit an unfamiliar - and probably expensive - store in order to get the ingredients that his pain-in-the-ass little brother was insisting on having.

He finally found a parking spot, further away from the door than he would have liked, and pulled the long car into it carefully. She might still not look like much, but he didn’t want her getting any rougher just because some hippie soccer mom decided to fling her car door too wide.

Was there such a thing as a hippie soccer mom? Dean frowned at his dash. He felt like that was probably one of those things that he said sometimes that made Sammy give him that disappointed eye-roll. The one with the disgusted, open-mouthed expression.

He shook off the thought and pulled his long frame out of the car. He stepped onto the asphalt and shut the door behind him with a squeak and a slam. A car horn from the front of the store drew his attention and he lifted his head more fully to see what was happening.

His mouth went dry with the sight before him. Cas Novak was pushing a cart out into the parking lot. It was like a cheesy movie, where the lighting goes fuzzy and warm, and everything goes into slow motion. There should be some kind of warning wherever that man went. Some kind of little elf walking around in front of him carrying a sign that read “Caution, sexiest man to ever exist is here. Avert your eyes.”

Wait, what? Dean laughed at himself and the utterly stupid things that came into his head whenever he saw his crush. And that’s exactly what Cas Novak was - a crush. Dean needed to get laid or something. It had to be the heat was getting to him, or something. Or maybe his brain had been taken over by those zombie pollen things from that documentary that Sam had watched. That was the most likely scenario since he was suddenly walking over to Cas. And talking! He was talking to Cas. Of course, he was. Because that would end well.

What the hell had he even said already? He’d begun helping Cas with his groceries because - why? And he been staring into endless electric blue eyes while doing it. And trying not to stare at the ruffled sex hair or the collarbones that were peeking out of Cas’ deep blue v-neck.

Dean heard himself say, “But, I uh, kinda lost a bet to my brother.” And then he did that dumb, high-pitched laugh he did when he was nervous. _Don’t you have another topic?_ “He works part time during the summer for Singer’s actually. We’ve been pretty busy so far, but it’s been good.”

_Why are you always talking about plants and your brother? Why are you some kind of co-dependent elf? ...why do you keep thinking about elves? Oh, god. Don’t you dare make a Lord of the Rings reference. I will take a pair of kitchen shears to our junk. I swear to god, Dean Winchester._

Dean was lost in his thoughts and then so distracted by full pink lips that he almost didn’t realize they were moving to form words. He frowned. “I’m sorry, what?”

Cas shot a look at Dean and then the Impala. “Car?” he asked, and pointed. He sounded disinterested, like he was annoyed he was having to repeat himself, and it flustered Dean.

“Oh! Yeah, she’s mine. Well, sort of. She was my dad’s, but I’m taking care of her so she’ll be mine.” Dean cleared his throat and shrugged, tamping down the desire to talk shop about his pride and joy.

Dean tried to school his face into a neutral expression as he noticed the bouquet of flowers Cas had picked up from the front section of the grocery cart. He felt his stomach flip - which was dumb, because it wasn’t as if he’d ever have a chance with Cas whether or not the guy was in a relationship. “Those for your girlfriend?” Dean didn’t really want to know the answer, but he hoped it would at least answer his questions about Cas’ sexual orientation.

“Hmm? Oh, these. No, they’re for a colleague of mine. She just returned from maternity leave.”

Well that had answered nothing. “They’re nice. Maybe this is where I should get some for my m - uh, for my mom.” _Because nothing says sexy like talking about your dead parent._ Dean wiped his forehead with his palm and took a deep, shuddering breath. He pursed his lips.

“So, hey, speaking of plants,” Dean began. _You are going to die alone._ “You should really water that little pear tree that’s by the shed. She’ll need it before I can get back over there. I think the shed blocks the rain some, maybe?”

“Oh, mm-hmm. I’ll do that.” Cas was clearly ready to leave and he was barely making eye contact with Dean.

Dean rolled his shoulders so as not to let them slump in disappointment. “Well, hey, I’ll uh, get out of your hair. Was good seeing ya.” He gave Cas a tight grin and then quickly walked towards the store.

Dean licked his lips and shook his head as he walked through the sliding glass doors. He didn’t have much time to brood over it all though, because he realized he had no clue where anything was in this store. He was suddenly overwhelmed by sights and smells.

He moved out of the way of a woman who sighed loudly at him, and then stood a moment longer near the doors, looking around. He had just decided on a direction to head when his phone rang. He dug it from his pocket and saw that it was Sam calling.

“What?” Dean answered, without preamble.

There was a slight pause. “What’s wrong?” Sam asked in a concerned voice.

“Nothing’s wrong. Why’s something gotta be wrong?” Dean knew instantly that he’d spoken too quickly and he balled up his other hand into a fist.

There was just a longer pause and then what sounded like a sigh.

Dean rolled his eyes as he walked. “I ran into...Mr. Novak.” _He’s a client and you need to remember that._

“Oh. _Oh_. Uh...how was he?”

“Devastatingly good-looking,” Dean quipped. In a rush he asked, “Look, Sammy, I’m at the store picking up your special frou-frou ingredients, what d’ya want?”

“Did you talk to him?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Dean frowned at a weirdly shaped fruit. He had no clue what it was. He turned it over in his hands, trying to figure it out without looking at the sign.

“So, that’s a yes. I’m guessing it didn’t go so good?”

“Don’t you have some nerdy things you should be doing? Something other than annoying me.” Dean picked up an unknown vegetable to inspect it, but set it back down again.

“I actually just called to remind you that you had to make me dinner tonight.”

“That’s extremely helpful, Sammy, thank you,” Dean deadpanned. “I never would have remembered. Gosh, how convenient that I just happen to be in an organic grocery store. What a mind-boggling coincidence.”

“Whatever.” Sam huffed a laugh. “Jerk.”

“Bitch.” Dean hung up without saying anything further, but he was smiling by then.

Dean caught sight of the potatoes that he was looking for and then caught sight of the price. “Sonuvabitch!” he exclaimed.

A mother next to him shot him a dirty look and pushed her child and cart away. He gave her a sheepish smile a moment too late.

Dean sighed and straightened his shoulders. “All right, let’s do this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always for reading and commenting my lovelies!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean can't find his loppers and winds up at Cas Novak's house.

Dean took a deep breath before knocking at the door. He was pissed at himself for possibly losing his loppers, but he was more pissed at himself for realizing that the only place left to look was at Cas Novak’s place.

Dean heard Cas – _Mr. Novak_ – shout from inside the house and closed his eyes, trying to regain his cool. He heard the door click and his eyes shot open. Then he remembered he was still wearing his old, filthy Singer’s cap.

Dean swallowed as he grabbed the hat from his head and ran his hand through his hair, trying to look slightly more respectful and a bit less like a kid with a crush which is what he felt like.

Oh god. Those lips, and those eyes and… _Focus._

“Hey, um, I’m sorry to bother you…Mr. Novak, but…”

“Please, call me Cas. Mr. Novak is…is too much,” Cas said, with a slight frown.

Dean couldn’t help the way his eyes roamed over Cas then. He was having a hard enough time keeping the employee/employer lines firm in his mind, without calling the guy by his first name. Especially since it made him think of calling that name out in… Dean took another quick breath and licked his lips. “Um, yeah, ok.”

Dean’s eyes finally met Cas’ again and he tried to kick start his brain into remembering why he’d come by in the first place. “Um, anyway…” Why was he here?

Dean suddenly remembered. “I hate to bother you, _Cas_ , but I think I maybe left my good pair of loppers in your garage? I can’t find ‘em and last place I remember having them was here.” _Why don’t you further explain how incompetent and unprofessional you are by letting him know just how many times you’ve jerked it to memories of his body this week, Dean?_

Dean clenched his jaw tight as his body went warm with irritation at himself.

“Oh,” Cas replied. Dean couldn’t read his expression. “All right. I haven’t seen them in the yard… Um, come on through and I’ll let you into the shed. Maybe you left them there.”

Dean was pretty sure he’d said that was probably where he’d left them, but then again he wasn’t entirely certain that his mouth and brain were matching up even half the time around Cas. He started into the house, but then glanced down in time to not ruin Cas’ floor. “Uh…” He huffed a small, self-deprecating laugh. “Maybe I better not – I’m kind of covered in stuff.” He shrugged. “I don’t want to get your nice carpets all dirty.” He looked around at the inside of the house a bit sheepishly. It was even nicer than he’d figured.

Cas dropped his gaze down to Dean’s feet and Dean took the chance to look Cas over again. His eyes were drawn to the V where Cas’ shirt collar opened and revealed a tan neckline and a collarbone that looked like it would be exceedingly fun to bite. Dean swallowed and sighed as Cas looked back up.

“Right.” Cas was frowning, probably at all the grass and dirt that Dean’s cuffs had somehow attracted.

“So I’ll just come around and meet you back there?” Dean offered, feeling like a complete pain in the ass.

“Sure…” Cas said it slowly and Dean’s eyebrow went up. “Actually, I’ll just walk around with you. I have a plant I wanted to ask you about. If you have an extra moment?”

“Yeah! Sure!” Dean replied, way too enthusiastically. He was far too willing to jump at any chance to spend time around Cas. _And apparently you love talking about plants_ , a voice in his head added helpfully. _You gonna see if you can work in a mention of Sammy, too, while you’re at it? Bring up elves, Dean. That’s always a winner._

Cas grabbed his keys while Dean was internally arguing with himself. Then suddenly Dean was following behind Cas, which was making it especially hard to remain professional and calm because the man had an ass you could bounce a nickel off and Dean was fighting the urge to just stare at it the entire time.

They made it to a large aloe plant in the side yard, and Dean gave Cas some pointers on how to take better care of it. Then he offered to keep an eye on it himself. At least he was pretty sure that’s how the conversation went. He kept getting whiffs of Cas’ aftershave, and he wasn’t really sure he’d even said anything in English.

As they began walking to the backyard, Dean shook his head trying to clear it and find something – anything- to talk about before he drove himself crazy. His gaze landed on the pool and nervously he began rambling about it. Something about how he’d be in it everyday. At least it wasn’t plant talk and it didn’t involve his brother or his job.

“I actually use it quite a bit. I just prefer to swim around dusk or at night.”

“Oh yeah?” Dean’s voice went up as his mouth went dry yet again. He had an image in his mind of Cas in swim trunks, in the cool light of dusk, and he was almost certain he was sporting a semi. “I…I don’t think I’ve ever been swimmin’ at night…” Of course, he couldn’t be sure, since right then he wasn’t 100% certain of his own last name.

“It’s my favorite time for it. Especially when it’s hot like this, because it’s still plenty warm even after the sun’s down.”

Dean was getting a very, very clear picture in his mind of just hot it could be after the sun went down, when Cas suddenly tripped. Dean reached out for him, instinctively, and caught his forearm with one hand. He made sure Cas was steady, even as fire coursed through his veins. He tried to think of anything to say, but his mind had shut down at the unexpected contact when he was already fighting arousal. Thankfully, they were about to the shed, anyway.

Dean stepped into the building as soon as Cas opened the door.  It was a chance to get out of the heat, the sun, and Cas’ immediate vicinity for a moment. The sooner he found his loppers, the sooner he could get home and take the coldest shower possible.

“Dean…” The rough sound of Cas’ voice went straight down Dean’s spine and into his dick.

Overly brightly, he shot his head from the dark and asked, “Yeah?”

“Here.” Cas held up two keys. “I have a spare I can use, and you’re in here more often than I am. This way if you need anything, or if you leave anything here, you can just come get it. The little one goes to the shed.” Cas pointed to it. “The big one will work on the back gate here.”

Dean knew he had to look as shocked as he felt. “ _Seriously_? I mean…” Dean frowned at the keys, thinking of all the times someone he worked for had watched him like a hawk, fully expecting him to steal a tool - or lop off their favorite rose. “You trust me with those?”

Cas frowned at that. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

Dean just stared for a moment, dumbfounded. “Uh, it’s just…well, I mean, most people…” Dean huffed a small laugh and looked Cas straight in the eye, trying to get a read on him. He got straight to the point. “Most people wouldn’t trust a guy like me with keys to get into their fancy back gate and the shed with all their expensive tools.”

Cas frowned harder and Dean noticed he squared his shoulders. He was firm when he said, "I know you haven't been working for me that long, Dean, but it seems to me that 'guys like you' are exactly the ones that people should trust with keys. You work hard, you’re helpful, and you seem to always be upfront with me. I don't think you're going to steal anything, or come in for any reason other than a legitimate one."

Dean smiled wide, a feeling flowing through him that he couldn’t even name. Dean reached out gingerly and took the keys, trying not to brush against Cas’ hand too much. He looked at them before raising his eyes again to meet Cas’ gaze. “Thanks, Cas,” he said sincerely. “I appreciate that.” He took a deep breath and raised his head fully. “You can trust me,” he added.

As he stared into bright blue eyes, though, Dean wasn’t so sure he could trust himself. _So screwed_ , he thought, warmth flooding him still, and not from the summer heat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot come up with anything clever for my notes this time. Sooooo.... yeah. *wiggles lips* I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Love you guys!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has a crate full of excuses to see Cas.

Dean was staring off into the bush to the left of Cas’ door, trying to run through his mind again what he was going to say. With a soft sound, the door opened, and Dean looked up to meet Cas’ gaze. The grin was involuntary, and he hoped it was friendly but not overly so.

“Hey Cas,” he said, feeling a little breathless. Then the expression on Cas’ face registered in Dean’s brain and his grin dropped. “Are you ok?” Cas looked far more stressed out and unkempt than Dean had seen him before.

Cas’ expression cleared, to Dean’s relief, and he coughed just slightly before speaking. “Yes, I’m fine. Um…how are you?”

Dean smiled, even knowing it was only a standard pleasantry. He happily told Cas he was good and that he’d been busy. He also explained away his presence as being due to having touched up the front yard with the weed-whacker. Which was true, technically. Cas didn’t need to know Dean had realized the weed-whacking was a good reason to come over and offer Cas up the first batch of Bobby’s extra tomatoes - and have an excuse to spend some more time around Cas.

Cas seemed confused, suddenly. “Did you need something?”

Dean felt flustered, and rubbed at the back of his neck with his palm. “Oh! Ah, no, um. Actually, I just uh, swung by to ask if you might want some tomatoes?” Dean paused, and then realized how odd that sounded. Quickly, he explained Bobby’s bumper crop. He shrugged a shoulder nervously and played his hand across his opposite arm. “I uh, knew you cooked, ‘cause I saw all …that stuff you had at t-the grocery store. So…um.”

_That’s how to get into a guy’s pants. Offer him free vegetables and then tell him you looked over his groceries. That’s sure to – Wait, are tomatoes a vegetable or a fruit?_

Dean realized he’d gotten lost in his own head again and the pause for an answer had become an uncomfortably long one. He rubbed at his neck again and cleared his throat. “So, uh, would you…like some?” His mouth had run dry.

Cas just gawked at him, and Dean really began to see just how bad of an idea this whole thing had been. He knew it was a bad plan. Quietly, he added, “I’ve got a ton of them…” He motioned to the truck.

Suddenly, Cas was animated again, and even seemed enthusiastic as he told Dean how nice it was of him to offer. Maybe the awkwardness was just whatever had him stressed, and wasn’t Dean at all. Relief flooded through Dean and he smiled again. “Ok, cool! Um, I’ll uh, I’ll go get them.” He nodded as he quickly sprinted to his vehicle for the tomatoes.

Dean somehow managed to get the big crate out of the truck without spilling it, and headed back to the house. He caught Cas’ eyes widen in shock and laughed. “You don’t have to take all of them,” he insisted, kicking his shoes off while carefully balancing the crate. I figured I could bring them all in and you could pick which ones you want.”

Cas thanked him and began leading Dean through the house. Dean got caught up in looking around, noticing all the books Cas had, and how cozy yet expensive his furniture seemed. It was the kind of place he could see himself having, once he had the money.

Dean lagged a few steps behind Cas without meaning to. When he noticed Cas was watching him, he smiled awkwardly and moved his feet a bit faster.

“Sorry,” Dean huffed out as he set the unwieldy crate onto the kitchen island. “I like your place,” he said with a smile. Then it occurred to him why Cas may have been keeping an eye on him. “I’m not – I’m not like, casing the joint or anything. I just – you seem to have similar taste to me, is all.”

“Why would I think you were ‘casing’ the place?” Cas asked with a frown.

Dean stammered and shrugged. “I don’t…you wouldn…” He tried to form more words, but then aborted the effort. Finally he let out a hard sigh and opted to be himself and hope for the best. He stuck his hands towards Cas and said, “Hi, I’m Dean. And sometimes I say stupid stuff.” He watched Cas with wide, nervous eyes.

Cas’ full lips smoothed out into wide, gummy grin and he laughed. “Nice to meet you.” Cas shook Dean’s hand, and his smooth fingers were warm, and the handshake was firm. Dean’s breath caught in his chest at that and when he saw Cas glance to the tomatoes, Dean fled past Cas to try and get some air.

He got a distinct whiff of Cas’ cologne as he brushed by him, and that just caught his breath again all over again. He bit the inside of his lips, and clenched his fist for a moment.

Cas leaned against the counter, clearing his throat, and said, “So, these look very good! Bobby must have quite the green thumb.”

Dean said something about Bobby, with a shrug, but was working on autopilot. He hadn’t recovered from the closeness to Cas, the feeling of taking his hand, or the scent of him. He tripped his way through an answer about something to drink, and took a long swig of the soda. The dim lighting of the kitchen just then was doing him no favors as it cast long shadows from Cas’ eyelashes and made Cas’ cheekbones more prominent. It was mood lighting - and Dean was definitely in the mood for Cas.

Dean leaned on the counter for support, a hand on either side of the crate, as he attempted to get his mind off of Cas’ mouth. He watched Cas form the question, but didn’t actually hear it. “Hmm?” Dean managed, distractedly.

“I...I asked if I could have as many as I’d like.”

Dean flicked his eyes down Cas, hoping it looked as if he was staring at the tomatoes below. “Yeah… Yeah, take what you want.” Dean mumbled. _Take me like you want,_ Dean thought as his gaze ran back across Cas’ mouth.

He had to stop that line of thinking right there, or else he wasn’t going to be able to move away from the counter island. He was definitely already semi-hard. Then Cas started talking again, but in a low monotone list, and it was easy for Dean to pretend he wasn’t talking about tomatoes at all, but listing off what he was going to do to Dean.

_Get a grip on yourself, Winchester,_ said part of Dean’s brain. _You’ve been getting a grip all week while thinking of Cas_ , supplied another part helpfully.

Dean shook his head and took a deep breath, trying to think of baseball scores and his little brother’s sweaty shoes to rid his mind of any and all sexy thoughts. That’s when Dean noticed that Cas had all but emptied the crate.

“Erm…” Dean raised a brow and let out a small chuckle. Cas glanced up at him. Dean suppressed the smile that was forming and licked his lips instead. “Cas...you sure you don’t want those 6, too?” Dean’s smile broke free. Cas’ face at the realization that he’d taken nearly all the tomatoes was just too cute.

Cas gave him a small smirk, and Dean’s groin perked up again. Cas murmured, “You did say as many as I wanted.”

Dean laughed again, because it kept him from dying at the sight of that sassy expression. “All right, fair enough. It’s not like Bobby’s got a shortage of the damn things.”

Cas looked sheepish, though. “Do you need some back?”

Dean hurried to answer. “No! No, Cas, I was just…” Dean couldn’t keep his eyes off Cas. “I don’t know, it’s kind of cu – funny!” Dean coughed at the near miss of describing Cas as cute. “Kind of _funny_ how your eyes got all big when you saw how many I had, but then you…wound up taking most of them. That’s all.” Dean felt flustered again, and smiled down at the crate, hiding his eyes and warm cheeks from Cas.

“I have a bit of a thing for pasta,” Cas said coyly as he set the tomatoes he was holding down on the counter.

“Oh yeah?” _I got a bit of a thing for you. _Dean was flirting, but how could he help it? “Good to know,” he said, his voice dark, when Cas turned back to face him again.

Dean suddenly remembered himself and grabbed the crate. “I uh, gotta get going.” Dean’s brain looked for a reason and he grew irritated as he realized he had one. “Promised my brother I’d take him the pool today.”

The irritation apparently carried into his tone, because Cas was asking, “Is that tone directed at your brother or...?”

Dean quickly met Cas’ eyes and frowned. “Huh? Oh! No, no way.” He didn’t launch into details about Sam, but he decided to explain further. “Just the public pool… I love swimming, but I hate the crowds. Especially in this heat, there are so many people…” Dean made a face as he turned to head towards the front door. “I think there’s more bodies in the pool than water on the weekends.”

Cas followed Dean to the door and said, “I imagine it must be very crowded.”

“Yeah. I don’t much like it even when it’s not this hot. I used to take him to the Y to swim – super early in the morning – cause it would just be us. …He’s 15 now though, and he wants to sleep in.” Dean pooched out his lips in thought. “Plus hang out with his buddies.” Dean made another face as he realized he’d yet again started rambling about his brother. He shrugged as he hesitated in the doorway. “Oh well,” he said, dismissing the conversation. “Enjoy your tomatoes, man. I’m glad you can use them.”

As Dean slipped his shoes back on, Cas thanked him. Then he said Dean’s name, a little quietly, and Dean looked back up at the softness in tone. “Yeah?” Dean replied, one foot still half sticking out of his shoe.

“If you’d ever like to use my pool, you’re welcome to ask.”

Cas’ eyes were bright and his voice was friendly and Dean knew he was practically beaming, but he couldn’t help it. He shoved his foot into the sneaker without looking as he asked, “Really?” He tried to tell himself Cas was just being nice, maybe felt sorry for him even, but that didn’t feel true.

“Yes! Sure, why not?” Cas said, eagerly. He explained he didn’t often use his pool, and how much nicer it was than the public one. “It’s the least I could do as often as you’re here doing things for me.” Cas nodded. “Plus, the tomatoes,” he said kindly.

Dean huffed out a grateful sigh. “I gotta say, man, that’s pretty awesome of you. I-I don’t know that I’ll take you up on it, but…I really do appreciate the offer.” He smiled at Cas and drank in the sight of him propping himself on the door frame.

“Sure, of course. Um, I guess you should go. And I have the manu- stuff.” Cas nodded. Dean assumed he was referring to whatever had him so stressed out when Dean had knocked.

Dean was taking a few steps backwards, towards the truck as Cas said, “Ok. Bye, have fun at the pool.”

Dean knew he had a dumb smile plastered to his face, but he didn’t care. “Yep,” he managed to squeak out. “See you later,” he said, waggling a finger over the crate in a wave. It wasn’t the coolest of gestures, but oh well.

  
Dean bit his bottom lip, smile still firmly in place, as he walked the crate back to the truck, feeling light on his feet and pleased with himself. That had gone so much better than he’d expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *gulps* Um. So. Hi... *waves nervously*


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is distracted for different reasons.

Dean's mind shuffled through various topics like he was flipping stations on the radio in the Impala. His mind jumped from how much of his paint job fund he’d need to use to replace the spark plugs and wires in the car, to what to make for dinner since John would be working a double shift and it would just be Sam and Dean that night. Then he was on to thinking about laundry.

 _Get your shit together_ , he thought and mentally shook himself. He was always scatterbrained after visiting his mom's grave, even if he was never quite sure why. He usually tried to avoid working the day after, but it hadn't been in the cards this time. He guessed it really didn't help that he was currently in Cas Novak's yard, either. That alone intended to cease some of his brain functions.

Despite being so caught up in his head, he noticed Cas had probably been watering the small pear tree, as Dean had suggested. For some reason, that made him smile a little. Then he rolled his eyes at himself.

 _Ooh what a catch! He watered the tree! Try not to swoon too hard_.

Dean looked around and his mood dropped further when he saw the state of the hedges. There had been stupidly high winds the night before and they'd apparently hit the Novak house as hard as they’d hit the Winchesters’. Dean, along with his father, brother, and one of their neighbors, had been woken up in the middle of the night by a loud bang. It had turned out to be the Winchesters large - and thankfully plastic - garbage can being picked up in the gale and bounced against the Impala. Dean was thankfully able to pop the slight dent back out to before he left for Singer’s.

It occurred to him, as he pulled wreckage from Cas’s hedges and tossed it into a pile a few feet away, that could be contributing to his mood. He didn't have time to think about too much though because as he glanced down somebody hit him over the head with a log.

“Ow! Son of a bitch!” It hadn't been a log, but it was damn well close enough. Apparently a branch had falling from the tree? Dean was still trying to put it all together from where he was doubled over in pain. “Fucking son of an assdicked cockwhore! Dicktoothed farting piece of shit!” Dean wasn’t even sure what was coming out of his mouth, but it seem to be getting his point across to the offensive branch. It was lying on the ground and partly across the hedge and Dean tried his best to kick it. He missed and swore again.

He was rubbing his neck with one hand, his other propped on his thigh holding him somewhat upright.

“Dean, are you all right?”

Of course Cas had seen Dean be attacked by a stick because he was incompetent. That was how this day was going.

“Shit,“ Dean muttered. He looked up at Cas sheepishly. “Sorry I….“ Pain shot through him at the movement. “Shit.“ Dean tried to move as little as possible to look at his own shoulder. He moved his T-shirt just enough to be able to see a huge slice out of his shoulder and arm. He growled through his clenched teeth.

“Come inside.” Cas’s voice was comforting, but he had a tone like he’d accept no argument.

Not that Dean would argue. The way Cas had said the words, Dean would've done nearly anything he said, injured or not.

“We’ll get you cleaned up,“ Cas explained before letting out a sigh. His voice was softer as he said, “I saw it just as it was coming down. I didn't have time to warn you.“

Like it has been his fault Dean was spacing. Bobby would've ripped into Dean – once he’d made certain he was okay and nothing was broken - about the importance of safety. Dean knew better than to zone out, even during mundane tasks.

“I should've been paying more attention,“ Dean said, as much to himself as to Cas.

Cas put his hand on the underside of Dean's arm to help guide him and Dean totally forgot about paying attention again. All his focus was on the pain in his neck and the pleasure sparking to the underside of his arm. Meanwhile he was pretty sure Cas didn’t even realize he done it.

Dean grimaced his way through the walk to the porch. Once they were near the door, Dean began kicking off his shoes. He felt Cas watching him and said, “ I don't want to track stuff in your house.“

“I know.“ Cas shook his head. “It's just…”

Dean wasn't sure what Cas’s frown was about, but he was too in pain to really care.

Cas pulled out a chair and waved at it for Dean to sit, then walked from the room. Dean assumed he was going to get something to clean up the gash in Dean's arm. Dean frowned down at it, and gingerly reached up to brush a bit of dirt from it. He glanced up at Cas when he entered the room, and tried to give him an embarrassed smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys really are the best. <3 I will try to respond to comments soon; I haven't quite been up to that yet. But they absolutely make my day and mean so much, seriously. I started a new job in March that I absolutely hated for months and it sucked out all my writing mojo (and all my non-writing mojo for that matter) and I've been trying to get back to pre-job levels with everything ever since. (It's gotten much, much better at work, thankfully.) My anxiety has a tendency to trick me into thinking it's not been that long since I did something, only to discover it has been a ridiculously long time, as well as keeping me from doing it. 
> 
> Anyway, to sum up, my readers here absolutely rock and brighten my day even when I'm not writing and I really, really, really appreciate it.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean never lets a little blood stand in the way of his angst.

As Cas rifled through the first aid kit, Dean pushed his chair a little closer and rifled through his thoughts. He was trying to make sense of the past few minutes, but his mind stalled on a vague recollection of some choice words.

  _...had he said something about a farting cockwhore?_

“I’m uh…” He felt himself grow warm with embarrassment. “I’m sorry about before… with… Ya know. All the swearing.”

He risked a slight glance up at Cas. When he did he realized just how close Cas was, and grew even warmer, but for totally different reasons. Time seemed to slow to a stop and Dean lost track of nearly everything but Cas’ lips. Then Cas cleared his throat and time restarted.

“I don’t give a fuck.” Cas’ tone was gravelly and mostly sincere.

Dean’s brain took a second to catch back up with time, but when it did, what Cas had said clicked into place. Dean’s breath caught for a moment before he tilted his back and laughed. The unexpected humor— and the way the word “fuck” rolled off Cas’ tongue —mixed with the adrenaline rush from the pain and made Dean giddy. The smile Cas gave him sent him even higher.

Cas examined Dean a bit. “You should clean out the cut in your arm, I guess. It looks like it’s got a lot of dirt and it’s bleeding much more than your neck.”

Dean looked down to his perpetually dirty arm, bright red with blood, as Cas asked, “Is it very deep? I can’t tell. There’s too much blood.”

Dean suppressed a smile and looked back to Cas’ blue eyes. “Nah. It’s just a flesh wound.” Dean winked, and Cas smiled. Dean considered following it up with “Tis but a scratch!” but decided that incompetency and over the top swearing really didn’t need to be followed up with too much nerdiness.

Dean looked at his arm, flexing it a bit. “There’s a lot of blood, but it’s not bad.” He smirked to himself. “I’ve had worse,” he quoted. _Okay, so maybe a little more nerdiness…_

Cas rubbed his chin and frowned at Dean. “Are you up to date on your vaccinations?”

Dean gave Cas a bemused look before smiling. He was trying to figure out what the hell Cas was quoting back. “Uh. Yeah, Cas.” He nodded and smirked, unable to recall any movies. “Rabies and everything,” he joked as he dabbed one of the cotton balls on his arm.

Cas made a small noise and Dean looked back up to see him roll his eyes. Then he smiled again and the sight made Dean bite his bottom lip involuntarily. “I was thinking more of tetanus actually.”

“Oh!” _He’s thinking like a mature adult instead of the nerd with a crush._ “Yeah, I got one of those last year.” Dean noticed Cas had an odd look, so with a shrug, he explained, “I’m repairing a rust bucket, remember? Plus, Bobby likes us to stay up to date. What with all the sharp tools and shit…”

_Fuck. Could you stop fucking swearing you fucking neanderthal? Fuck._

“I mean...! Stuff. Er… Sorry.”

Dean licked his lips nervously as Cas said “If you continue with that kind of language, Dean, you can get the fuck out of my house.”

Dean laughed loudly again. Partially because it was funny, and partially because it was the only way his brain knew how to cope with the shiver Cas’ voice had just sent up his spine despite the heat.

“Shit.” Cas’ attention turned to the stove. Dean felt tension flood out of him with the relief of not being so close to Cas, but it was mixed with a stupid longing too. He couldn’t resist straining to look at how well Cas fit into the back of his slacks.

That was when Dean remembered the gash in his neck. He sharply sucked in a breath across bared teeth. “Damn, that hurts!” Sheepishly, he asked, “You mind looking at my neck?”

Dean muttered about probably having a bruise the next day, as Cas looked him over.

“I think you may have a bruise today,” Cas corrected.

 _Of course,_ Dean thought as he placed a bandage on his arm. He didn’t have time to berate himself again, though, because Cas seemed to taking on the blame. Dean heard - and felt as Cas’ breath skimmed past the cool alcohol on Dean’s neck - Cas say, “I wish I’d seen it falling in time.”

Dean quickly rushed to put an end to that line of thinking. “Nah, I should’ve been paying better attention. I’m always kind of spacey after I….” He trailed off, surprised by what he’d nearly said. He couldn’t seem to keep his mouth running off without him around Cas, no matter the subject. He cleared his throat and rubbed his neck, careful not to touch the wound. “I... was distracted. And not paying enough attention to what I was doing. My own fault.”

There was a brief and —to Dean— uncomfortable silence before Cas walked away to throw the first aid trash away. He turned back to look at Dean. “Would you like a Tylenol or anything? Or something to drink?”

Grateful for the change of subject, Dean agreed to a drink. His throat was dry for several reasons.

He swallowed and glanced around the room. “So uh...what’s new with you?” He let out a nearly inaudible but sardonic laugh. “Besides having clumsy dudes come into your yard and knock trees down on themselves.”

It got him a slight laugh, but then Cas sighed. “I’m actually trying to plan my vacation.”

That sounded awesome to Dean, but Cas had said it like he had meant funeral rather than vacation. Dean took the offered soda from Cas with a nod, and warily said, “Oh yeah? That sounds nice.” It hadn’t sounded nice at all when Cas had said it, but maybe Dean was wrong.

“Does it?” Cas leaned against the counter near the sink. “It isn’t.”

_Not wrong then. Okay…_

“I’m going away with my brother and sister and the whole thing has become more work and stress than my job.”

Cas’ whole body gave off an annoyed vibe just from talking about it and Dean felt awful for the guy. Dean didn’t figure he’d ever have a job that allowed him a vacation, but if he did he hoped like hell that would be a _good_ thing. Dean frowned. “That sucks, man.”

There was a silence that Dean didn’t know how to fill and anxiety crept up around his neck, worse than the growing bruise. Then Cas was staking a claim at the counter, his arms stretched back and ankles crossed and _holy shit how are you that sexy…_

Dean realized Cas had asked him something. “Hmm?” Dean downed a drink of his soda to stave off the dry mouth Cas’ legs had given him.

“You said you weren’t paying attention, that you’re ‘always spacey after’ something. What made you ‘spacey’?”

_It’s bad enough you can’t keep your dick in your pants; could you please keep your foot out of your mouth?_

Dean frowned and ran his hand through his hair and rolled his shoulders just slightly. He sighed as the anxiety that had tied around his neck tightened its hold. He didn’t want to lie.

“Well….” Dean let his eyes wander around the kitchen. “I think I mentioned something... a while back. About buying flowers for my mom?”

Dean’s eyes met Cas’ and he could sense the gears moving in Cas’ mind, likely already putting the story together. He quickly looked away again. “Well. The flowers are… They’re for her grave.” Dean licked his lips before taking in a deep breath. May as well get it all out and over with.

“She died when me and Sammy were little kids,” he explained. “We went yesterday and placed some more flowers and I’m always a little out of it after that. Even now. I normally try to do it on a day _before_ my day off, but it just didn’t work out this time.”

Dean scratched his head absentmindedly. Finally he forced himself to make eye contact again. “So, that’s what I meant. The spacey afterwards thing.”

“I’m sorry, Dean.”

Before Cas had even finished his name, Dean was speaking again, hoping to escape the pity or at least get through it quickly, like pulling off a bandaid. “Yeah. No, it’s fine.” His eyes moved rapidly through the room again. “I mean….” He almost laughed.  “It happened like 15 years ago, so it’s not really a big deal. Hell, Sammy doesn’t even remember her. I just—I don’t like talking about it cause it’s kind of awkward to? And I just get weird after the visit ‘cause… well. It’s a weird thing to….”

Dean’s brain was trying to signal something to him as his eyes scanned, but he was still in mid-thought. “... have to do... I think. And….”

Dean suddenly realized what had caught his attention and he frowned, confusion setting in. Without thinking he turned back to Cas and asked, “Are you going to Nepal?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all are lovely. I haven't forgotten you. <3 I hope you enjoyed this one. (Next one will be quicker.)


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean tries to keep himself in line while having an unexpected lunch with his client.

Dean wasn’t sure why the idea of Cas vacationing in Nepal upset him so much. It was a little bit because Nepal was somewhere so out of the realm of somewhere he could ever go, and it brought up reminders of age and financial differences. It was also a little bit because Nepal didn’t seem like somewhere you’d go for a quick trip, and it meant Cas would be gone for a while. And it was a little bit just because it seemed to him such a random place to go on vacation.

His feelings only got more muddled at Cas’ reaction. “What? No! I don’t-maybe. No. I don’t know. What? Why?”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “You said you were planning a vacation, and this page is for flights to Nepal.” Dean looked at the laptop again when it hit him that it really wasn’t any of his damn business what Cas’ laptop had on it or where he was going for vacation. That thought came a little too late, though, since Cas was clearly agitated.

"That's not… It's… No," Cas said. "We haven't decided yet where we're going." He brushed past Dean and quickly closed the lid to the laptop with a click. Then he cleared his throat. "It's not Nepal though. That's... Are you hungry? Would you like some lunch?"

"Um…." Dean was at a loss, but the question of food made him more aware that his stomach had been gnawing on itself a little. Probably another reason he felt so scatterbrained.

He felt himself get hot with embarrassment again, but Cas had asked, right? And it would give them a reason to quickly drop the vacation discussion. "I'm... kind of starving actually. Whatever you're cooking smells awesome."

Dean had been ignoring it, but the smell of meat and tomatoes and some spices he couldn’t name had been filling the room since they’d walked inside.

Cas smiled at him and Dean relaxed a bit, even though Cas was too close still for Dean’s brain to stop screaming _“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! MUSK! BLUE EYES! ALL THE TAN! CLIENT! ABORT! ESCAPE!”_

“It’s spaghetti sauce,” Cas replied. “It's made with some of the tomatoes you gave me."

Dean’s brain was so offline it took a moment for him to remember what tomatoes even were. "Oh. Cool. Um…” Dean crossed his right arm over his body and rubbed his thumb against his index finger nervously. He felt awkward from Cas’ proximity and from the tension of the past few minutes. “Look I... wasn't meaning to pry or anything. About the vacation and stuff. I just looked over and… saw that."

"No… No, it's fine. It's just…." Cas seemed withdrawn suddenly. He walked quickly over to the stove. "It's just a fantasy," he mumbled, still clearly not himself - not that Dean really knew what he was like, not if he was honest. Cas seemed to shake it off. “Anyway, it will take me about 10 minutes to cook the pasta.”

_Ten full minutes for you to make an ass of yourself._

“I don’t want to be any trouble, Cas.”

_Little late for that, isn’t it?_

“It’s no trouble at all, Dean.” He cast a glance back Dean’s way and then began washing his hands. Afterwards, he got two plates down from the cabinet.

Dean smiled, and shifted in his seat. His sudden hunger was winning over his anxiety. “If you’re sure. Like I said, it smells awesome.”

He watched Cas move about the kitchen with ease. Dean wondered briefly if he looked even a fraction as fluid and confident when he moved around a stove like that. He wasn’t the best cook, so probably not. Maybe when he worked? Except then he was usually sweating like a pig and covered in dirt and grass stains. Probably wasn’t at all sexy. _Mmmm, oh yeah, balls stuck to your thigh and dirty fingernails, so hot._

Cas’ forearm flexed and Dean bit into his bottom lip. Yeah, him working definitely wasn’t that sexy.

Dean pulled his attention away from Cas’ body long enough to look over the dishes Cas was moving around. He had a sinking feeling that Cas’ saucepan probably cost more than all of the Winchester’s dishes combined, so he went back to staring at Cas’ ass to make himself feel better. Which, of course, made him feel worse instead.

He was rescued from his thoughts by Cas asking if he’d like to eat in the dining room. “I have to admit, I rarely use it,” Cas said with a shy look. “I usually simply eat here in the kitchen.”

Dean wondered again if that meant Cas was single. He already knew Cas lived alone, obviously, but something in the way he’d said what he had made Dean think there wasn’t usually any company to share a table. Dean cleared his throat and ran his fingernail along the edge of the bandage on his arm. “Kitchen’s fine. Um… Do you mind if I get washed up?”

“Oh! Of course not, no. You can use the bathroom sink. It’s around the corner, past the bookshelves.”

Cas didn’t even hesitate or seem interested in making sure Dean didn’t go wandering about the house. Yet another thing that set him apart from a lot of Dean’s customers, Dean thought with a smirk.

Dean found the bathroom easily enough and after getting a little too distracted by how soft Cas’ hand towels were and how good his soap smelled, he made his way back to the kitchen. Once there, he found Cas setting down two plates filled with homemade spaghetti. Dean’s mouth started watering at the sight.

“Shit, that looks tasty.”

Cas laughed and motioned for Dean to sit. Dean obeyed immediately, his eyes never leaving the food. He was a lot hungrier than he’d even realized. It was even distracting him from how close Cas was sitting.

Dean had never had Parmesan that didn’t come in a green cylinder, but Cas used a little white grater contraption to add some cheese to their plates. Dean made a mental note that he definitely wanted one of those when he got his own place.

They tucked into their food, and if Dean hadn’t already wanted to jump Cas’ bones, he would have after eating his cooking. If Dean could cook half that well, he would probably weigh over 250 and Sam would probably already be 7 feet tall. He told Cas as much, leaving out the bone jumping, and... _and holy shit, his eyes shine when he laughs._

 _Eating spaghetti should not be a memory for your spank bank, pal._ Dean focused on the food again.

“How is your brother?”

Dean wiped his mouth with the paper towel Cas had set down with the silverware. _That’s one way to kill a possible boner._ “He’s okay. Annoying. Eats all my food. Usual brother type.”

Cas grinned. “That sounds like an accurate brother description. My brother – Gabriel - is older, but I feel it’s still valid.”

Dean shook his head with faux seriousness. “No. Big brothers are awesome. It’s the little brothers that are the problem.”

Cas gave him a challenging smirk and Dean felt his lower half go wibbly. “You’ve definitely never met Gabriel.”

Dean swallowed nervously and let out a small laugh before taking another bite of his lunch.

“How did your sojourn to the pool go?”

Dean looked up. He chewed as he watched Cas take a long swig of his drink. Dean shrugged and tried to remember the trip. “It was ok. Really crowded. It wouldn’t be as bad if people would watch their kids, but…” Dean shrugged again. 

“The offer to use mine still stands.”

Dean still wasn’t sure what to do with that offer. Mostly because hiding an erection was a lot harder in swim trunks. _You’d be a hell of a lot harder if Cas were swim trunks._ Dean smiled and gave Cas a quick thanks before changing the subject.

“So are you editing anything interesting right now?”

Cas looked delighted Dean had asked, but maybe Dean was just projecting. “I’m between books at the moment. I just finished one, though, and it was….” Cas laughed and looked a little sheepish. “It was kind of awful, really, if I’m honest.”

Dean laughed before drinking in the sight of Cas’ grin. “Well, that blows.”

“It was.…” Cas sighed even as he laughed again. “I don’t know what it was. There was this woman who had been struck by lightning and something about bees as a metaphor for life, and it was just soooo.…” Cas raised his shoulders up high to his ears and then let them slump. “Pretentious and _boring_ ; oh my god, it was so boring.”

Cas got a devilish look about him then that made Dean bite his lip. “I apologize, I suppose I shouldn’t say all that. I normally have to tone down my reaction for my boss and the writers though. So it’s nice to admit the near-criminal levels of horribleness that was that dreck.” Cas made a disgusted face.

Dean laughed and leaned back. “Have at. I think it’s hilarious. Sucks you had to read it, though.”

Cas nodded. “On the other hand, I get to be the first to read some fantastic novels and I get to help writers polish their rough drafts into shining books. So I suppose I can’t complain too much.”

Dean let out a small sound. “Huh. Ya know, it’s funny, but that’s kind of how I feel about my job? Like, yeah I’m out in this.…” He looked towards the back door with a frown. “... _unbelievably stupid_ heat, but, ya know, I get to make sure people have a beautiful place to go, and I get to help little trees become big trees and….”

 _You get to help trees grow up? Are you listening to yourself right now?_ _Are you going to talk about how it makes you kind of like an elf next? We’ve talked about Sammy, wanna talk about your dead mom some more too?_

Dean coughed. “Anyway, I get what you mean.”

Cas smiled and watched Dean for a moment. “You do. It’s nice to talk to someone who does.”

Dean felt himself grow warm under Cas’ gaze and looked away. He downed the rest of his drink. “Do you have a big family?” he asked. “More brothers and sisters?”

Cas shook his head. “No, it’s just the three of us. My mother passed a few years ago. My… my father actually died when I was a child.”

Dean looked up to see Cas looking at him pointedly. “So… for what it’s worth, I understand some of the weirdness.”

Dean couldn’t explain the sense of relief that washed over him. Relief that someone at least had a inkling of what it was like, relief that of all the houses he could have gotten injured at he’d been at Cas’ place. “Thanks,” Dean said, his voice gruff with emotion. _Guess that’s a yes on the dead parent conversation then,_ Dean thought with a dark amusement.

Apparently sensing the turn of the conversation, Cas spoke again. “Well, you know how my editing is going now; how is your car coming along?” 

“Dude, not as fast as I’d like. She’s getting there though. I just redid the corner lights on the front. I need to replace the plugs and wires, though… You wanna go for a ride sometime? I know it doesn’t look like much, but it glides like a bird. You can’t tell from the ride how much work I still need to put in it.” _And then you can slide up next to me while I drive… and maybe I can put my arm around you… ‘cause apparently I’m living in a bad 50s movie and I just want to get to first base with you..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the love. <3


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean gets a day off from work, but not from his little brother.

Dean crunched a bite of his cereal as he stared at the midday news. He wasn’t paying any real attention to it - he couldn’t even hear it over his own chewing - but it gave his eyes something more interesting than a blank wall to focus on while he zoned out for a bit. 

He looked down to take another bite of his cereal, pain shooting through his neck as the muscles pulled. It kept him from noticing his brother’s entrance, until Sam flopped onto the couch with force. Half the kid’s bony ass landed on Dean’s hip and it jostled Dean enough to nearly slosh his cereal over the edge of the bowl. Dean quickly held the bowl up high to keep it from spilling and proceeded to give Sam a death glare.

Sam, in return, gave Dean a quick side-eyed glance before turning and giving him a shit-eating grin, his eyes closed tight and his tips stretched taut.

Dean sighed and looked back to his cereal as he lowered it. “Don’t you have any friends to annoy?” He shoved another spoonful of food into his mouth.

“Yeah, but I like them, so it isn’t as much fun.”

Dean grimaced as Sam shifted and dug his hip into Dean’s leg some more. So Dean shifted too, very suddenly, and it sent Sam toppling over onto his side on the couch. 

Dean laughed obnoxiously loud, open mouth full of cereal. 

Sam grabbed the remote from the table and laid back on the seat, as if nothing had happened. “Why are you even home for me to annoy anyway?” he asked, as he clicked through the few channels they could afford.

Ah, there it was. The reason for the irritating little brother act. Sam was investigating why Dean was home unexpectedly.

“Bobby gave me the day off.” He thought it sounded casual, but since he could practically feel Sam’s eyebrow raise, he guessed he’d missed the mark.

“Bobby Singer?” Sam asked, as if it could have been anyone else. When Dean didn’t bother to reply, Sam followed up with, “And why would he do that?”

Dean shrugged and swallowed a bite. “I dunno. Out of the goodness of his heart. He’s nice like that.” He took another bite, munching his cereal extra loud in the hopes Sam would take a hint. He wondered briefly if you could break a tooth on Cocoa Puffs. He figured if anyone could, it’d be him. Winchester luck and all that.

Sam stared for a few seconds. “This is Bobby _Singer_ we’re talking about? Scruffy dude, known to have loudly argued with a beanstalk in his garden and gone to a job to mulch leaves when he had the flu? _That_ Bobby Singer?”

Dean sighed. “Don’t you have some kind of studying to do?”

“Pfft!” Sam rolled his eyes and lifted his bare feet up to where they lay half on the back of the couch and half on Dean’s shoulder. Thankfully his feet weren't near any of Dean’s injuries. “It’s summer break, genius.”

Dean chose to ignore just how much couch his “little” brother was starting to take up. “Yeah, and you’re a nerd,” Dean replied. “Don’t you have some kind of advanced shit to be learning?”

“Did you seriously just use the word “nerd?” I….” Sam frowned and leaned up, dropping his feet back to the floor. “Dude, what the hell happened to your neck?”

“Watch your language.”

Without hesitation, Sam enunciated very clearly, “Dude, what in the fuck happened to your damn neck?” He leaned in closer. “You’re purple!” He reached up and moved Dean’s collar slightly. “And _scabby._ Ew.”

Dean shrugged his brother away. “Get off me, freak!”

“What happened to your neck?”

“A tree fell on me, ok? Geez.” Dean slurped the last of his milk and set the bowl down. “All that wind night before last. It knocked some shit loose in a tree and it fell. That’s all. Calm down, Mama Hen.”

“So… when you say tree…?”

Dean sighed. “It was a limb.”

“Like a branch?”

Dean didn’t reply. 

“So… a stick fell on you.”

“Do _you_ wanna be purple and scabby?”

Sam laughed and retreated back to his arm of the couch. “You ok?”

“Yeah.” Dean gave a curt nod. “I’m fine. It’s really not a big deal. Bobby insisted I take today off to heal up, though. That was after he yelled at me for not watching what I was doing, but before he had Karen double check my wounds and make me a sandwich.” Dean chuckled.

“Not watching what you were doing?”

“Yeah, I mean… I should’ve noticed the branch….”

“Tiny stick,” Sam interjected.

“...I wasn’t really looking at it to see it wasn’t attached.”

“Hmm. Ok.”

They watched an animated commercial for foot fungus powder in relative silence.

“Where’d it happen?”

Dean continued to look at the TV.

“Dean?” Sam asked, apparently sincerely thinking Dean hadn’t heard him. “Where’d it happen?”

“Novak’s,” Dean muttered, giving in.

Sam got a shit-eating grin again. “Ooooh! Is that why you weren’t paying attention?” he asked excitedly, in that way only siblings with juicy gossip can. “Could you not look at the branch ‘cause you were too busy looking at the booty?”

“Earlier, when you said you had friends - that was a lie, wasn’t it?”

Sam laughed. “You totally were!” Sam shook in head in mock disappointment. “Looking at a butt instead of working. Tsk, tsk.” 

Dean knew exactly how to end this. “Yeah. _Yeeeah._ Thinking about what I’d like to do to…”

Sam wouldn’t let him get the next word out. “Yuck, Dean! You’re so gross. I don’t want to hear about it.” Sam stuck his fingers in his ears. “Ugh.” He shivered.

Dean dropped his face into a very sincere expression. “That’s homophobic, Sammy.”

Sam scoffed with his eyes wide, clearly offended. “I don’t want to hear about it because you’re my brother.”

Dean barely fought down the grin that nearly gave him away. “So you like the gay sex otherwise?”

“Oh my GOD, Dean.” 

Dean continued laughing until he heard Sam’s door shut from he’d retreated back to his bedroom.

“You’re not funny!” Sam yelled, but Dean could hear the laughter in his voice.

Dean leaned towards the hall a little and yelled after him. “Dude, I haven’t told you how he has this hot professor thing going on and…”

Dean was interrupted by Sam letting out a growly half-scream and almost instantly there was music blasting from the bedroom.

Dean fell over laughing. 

Then he started thinking about Cas Novak for real. How close he’d been when he was checking Dean’s cuts and the brief touch of his hand when he'd taken Dean’s plate. How he’d smelled like summer and sex. How he’d made Dean laugh so easily, but had made sincere conversation.

Dean sighed, all brevity gone. “Well, fuck,” he said to the the TV. The only advice it offered was that mattresses were half off at a place downtown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would have had this up sooner, but I was working overtime and then attending NashCon. (It was FANTASTIC.) Now I have con-crud and post-con-depression, of course, but whatever. I loved writing this scene so I hope you all enjoyed reading it!

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from a song (like most if not all the chapter titles in Summer of Cas' Discontent), but has nothing to do with said song.


End file.
